


starlight

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Realism, Mutual Pining, Religion, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 18:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: Even was born after a drop of sunlight hit the earth, and Isak has gold in his green eyes.tangled au.





	starlight

**Author's Note:**

> aaah okay!! i've been working on this for absolute AGES and now it's finally done! i'm surprisingly proud of it and i hope you like it half as much as i liked writing it!! :)
> 
> massive thank you to [rino](http://evenshands.tumblr.com/) and [gina](http://sana-halla.tumblr.com/) for beta reading and making this story better!!!
> 
> title from i see the light from the tangled soundtrack (lol i know it's short but i promise it has a source)

“Listen, Mikael,” Even snaps at the chameleon as it settles itself on top of Even's box of paints, gaze judgmental as ever. “I'm going to ask her. Eventually. Stop pressuring me, you know how hard this is.” He brushes the chameleon off the box of paints in order to open it, swirling his brush in the red.

Painting a girl is one of the hardest things he's ever done. He's only ever seen Mother, and for some reason unbeknownst to him, he can't find a shred of beauty within her. She's got curly brown hair and deep pink lips and pearly whites, no wrinkles and smooth skin, an elegantly curved body and nimble hands. She's what he thinks is supposed to be beautiful, but he can't see it. Perhaps it's because she's his mother.

The girl he's painting is the opposite. Blond haired, green eyed, plump lips with red lipstick, an upturned nose. This girl is beautiful, Even thinks. This girl is what Even thinks he might want to marry one day, if he were to marry a woman, as Mother tells him he should. Well, as Mother used to say he should. She's a lot more insistent that he remain in the tower now. There's a lot of danger in the world she wishes to protect him from.

Mikael squeaks, and Even groans. “I'm so bored. I have nothing to do here. Paint, read, write, cook, get in arguments with pesky chameleons. That's it.” Mikael squeaks again. “There's a whole world out there, Mikael, filled with so many beautiful things. Flowers, and trees, and those little buzzy things, and somewhere out there is the person who invented chocolate. It can't be like what Mother says it is.”

The curve of the girl's jaw is what's frustrating him the most. It's hard and angular, too linear to be a woman's. It almost looks like a man's, and now that he looks, he actually has her blonde hair quite short. If he didn't know that this was a woman he was painting, he'd think it was an effeminate man. It's strikingly beautiful, when Even thinks about it. So he makes the nose a bit wider, the eyes a bit less soft, the neck bulging where there would be an Adam's apple.

More squeaking. “I'm sure there's beauty out there. I've seen the lights.” Mikael crawls up his arm, settling by his ear, before squeaking so loudly it hurts Even's eardrum. “Ow, Jesus. Chill. I'm happy here, okay? I am. Even if she says no, I'll be okay.”

At least, he used to be happy here. Twirling around the tower like it's his own sanctuary, singing nonsense songs and climbing rafters like tree branches. Listening to bird songs and eating the soups and stews and cheeses that Mother brings back from her trips into Corona. His life was simple, and satisfying, and he'd smile with pride every time he completed a new painting on his wall or baked a new type of Finnish cookies. Happiness used to be around every nook and cranny of this tower, something fun under every unturned rock and beneath every rickety floorboard.

Recently, though, Even found himself staring out the window a lot more. The tower only had one window up top, where Even stayed. It was small and the view never changed, he always stared at the same trees and the same pond and the same grass, 365 days a year for the past 17 years. He used to like watching the seasons change, but now, he'd like to know what the other side of the tower looks like. He's read every book at least 5 times, he's running out of room to paint, he's exhausted all of his recipes, and Mother hardly makes trips into town anymore.

Even would like to be happy here. He chooses to believe that he is, because he can't change his fate, can't leave the tower now or any time soon. No matter how old he gets, he has to stay here. Mother has to protect him. And he understands that.

It's mostly because of his hair. It's 24 inches long and a deep, rich gold. He'd always loved it, it was his favorite part of himself; especially because when he sat down and sang this song for Mother, it would glow. He didn't find out until he was 15 that it was magical, that it was the thing keeping Mother young and alive.

Centuries ago, a drop of sunlight fell from the sky, and when it landed on earth, it bloomed into a bright yellow flower. This flower heals wounds and illnesses, makes the old become young and the young become strong. When Mother was pregnant with him, she became ill, because of her older age. She consumed the flower, distilled into an elixir, and it cured her. And, of course, gave her baby the power to heal with a simple incantation and the touch of his hair.

So, yeah, he understands on a basic level of why he has to be in the tower. And he does his best to be happy about it, to make the most of his life as it was handed to him. Objectively, it's a pretty good life. It's Even's own problem that he wants more, that he craves more.

“At least I can see the lights from here,” he mumbles, after a few long beats of silence. He goes back to slowly painting the man/woman, his mind elsewhere. He accidentally puts gold, the color of the floating lights, in the green of his/her eyes. But it looks beautiful, so he keeps it.

Mikael squeaks despondently. Even sighs, putting his paintbrushes down and lowering himself from the alcove, putting his paints away. The door swings open, and he doesn't have to turn around. “Hello, Mother,” he says, closing the drawer and shutting the wardrobe, moving across the room to wash the pigments off of his fingers.

Mother comes by, kisses his cheek. “Hello, darling. I see you've been painting today.”

He nods. “Yeah. I'm running out of room, though..”

“Paint a solid color over old paintings, and put new ones on top of them.” She starts putting groceries into Even's cupboards, and he sighs, sitting on an old stack of boxes as he dries his hands on a tea towel. “Why are you staring at me all sad like that?”

“My birthday is coming up,” he says quietly.

Mother turns, cocks an eyebrow. “Birthday? Didn't you have one of those last year?” She asks, and Even forces a laugh, thinking she's kidding.

“Yeah, Mother... That's the thing about birthdays. They happen annually, once a year kind of thing.” Mother hums, turns around to wash some potatoes and begin peeling the skin off of them. “Anyway, I'm turning 20. And I know it's dangerous for me to go on my own, so I was hoping you and I could go on a trip to see the floating lights.”

“Darling, the outside world is a dangerous place. Too rough and tumble for a kind boy like you.”

“If you go with me, you can still protect me. I'll even put my hair up, I can—”

Mother interrupts him, “Is that a man you're painting on the wall up there?”

Even blinks. “Uh, yeah. It was a woman, but it changed halfway through.”

She makes a displeased noise. Even flushes from the disapproval, feeling chastised as he folds in a bit on himself. “Well. It's unpleasant to have a man staring down at you, is it not? You should've left it as a woman,” she sighs.

“I think the man is beautiful.“

“Women are to think that men are beautiful, darling,” Mother says. “You are a man, which means you are to think women are beautiful. You have various copies of The Bible, have you not read the scriptures? Memorized them?”

“I have, but—”

“Good,” she says curtly.

Even bites his lip hard, feeling the metallic blood tinge on his tongue. “Yes, Mother,” he says, though she hadn't specifically asked anything of him. She nods, and finishes peeling the potatoes.

“Set the table for us, darling.”

“Yes, Mother.”

  
....

  
Isak presses his back against the wall, his breathing heavy. There's royal guards surrounding the entire castle—it's a wonder that he even managed to get up here—all armed with swords and shields and fuck, he's so fucking screwed.

There's a window in the tower just to the west, blanketed in light from the setting sun. Isak should be able to make it, but the light against the stone might as well be a spotlight. If he can't make it into the window within a split second, he's sure to be spotted. He sits down and draws it out in the dirt and rubble, and then takes off before he can talk himself out of it.

He barely registers the yelling of the guards as he hurtles through the window, landing on his feet in the room. Thankfully, it's a broom cupboard, and Isak has a moment to take a breath and figure out his next move. He knows exactly where the crown is, exactly what room and where in the room and what vent to crawl through to get there. The problem is figuring out how to get in the vent, get the crown, and then climb back through the vent without being seen. Especially considering he's already got royal guards on his ass.

Isak stands, looks at the ceiling. There's pipes, but no vent access. Fuck. Okay, plan B. Sneak through the hallways, get the crown, and run like hell.

In retrospect, Isak should've prepared better for this. Too late now.

He pulls the door open and tiptoes down the hall, looking around the corner. He can see the staircase leading down to the big room, can see the pedestal with the crown displayed, gems glinting in the afternoon sun. Motherfucking jackpot.

He darts out, runs down half the steps before just hopping the railing, and then ducks behind a pillar. There's no royal guards in, so Isak runs again, behind the pillar closest to the crown. He reaches out, barely grasps the crown before he hears someone yell, “Stop!”

Naturally, Isak doesn't stop. He shoves the crown in his satchel and hauls ass, pulling open the nearest door. He ends up in the courtyard, barricaded in by four large castle walls.

“Freeze!” A guard yells, and Isak ducks behind a tree, panting. He quickly scans the walls for any exits, zeroing in on a door about 20 feet away. He turns, sees the guard headed for him, so he bolts, pulling the door open. It leads to a bedroom with a large window, and he busts the glass, running with the satchel clutched tightly to his side.

He finds a palace horse hitched on the grounds just a few yards from the castle, so he hops on and kicks the side, making it whinny and start running. He laughs as he escapes the guards, the white horse darting between the trees and away from the castle.

Isak sits back, opens his satchel and smirks at the crown nestled inside. This will sell for millions, easy, either by the royals or someone on the market. He shuts his satchel and leans forward, having the horse go faster.

  
....

  
“I want to see the floating lights,” Even divulges to Mother one morning while she’s preparing to go into Corona for the first time in months. She laughs as she wraps her cloak round her shoulders, tells him that they have the perfect view from the window. Even sighs. “No, Mother. I want to go with you into town and see the floating lights for my birthday.”

Mother folds her arms. “And let you get hurt or killed? Darling, you're not prepared for the sort of things that go on out there.”

Even scoffs, “I'm not a child anymore, Mother! I'm almost 20, and it's not even like I'd be going alone. You'd be there with me, the whole time. I don't know what you're so afraid of!”

“You! I'm afraid of you, okay?!” She yells back, and Even's eyes widen. He'd been expecting another lecture on the dangers of the people out there; the thugs and mafia and all. He wasn't expecting her to say he was the biggest threat of them all. “You're naïve, and clumsy, and careless, and impulsive. You think that everything in the world is good, and it isn't. There is nothing out in that world except for sin.”

“There's got to be more than that.”

She sits down in her chair, rubs her temples. Even sits on his knees in front of her, pleading silently. “You're bipolar, Even. You can't control yourself, you can't stop yourself from getting hurt the way normal people can. You don't understand how ugly the world is.”

Even blinks back tears, shaking his head aggressively. Mother groans, throws her head back and runs her fingers through her unruly dark curls. “There has to be more. There are good people out there, Mother, I know it. Those floating lights are proof. They're proof that there's light and good out there. I just want to see it for myself, don't you understand?” He begs, gripping her hands tightly.

“You know nothing!” She yells, and Even startles, letting go of her hands and falling back. She grabs her basket from under her chair, and points to the floor. Even returns dutifully, turned around. She pulls his hair out of its confines—shoved in a beanie—and watches all 24 inches of golden blond hair fall out.

She brushes it slowly, methodically. Tears sting at Even's eyes, as he sings the song as slow as possible, too. His hair glows, as it always does, and Mother presses a light kiss to the top of his head.

“I just want what's best for you, darling,” she whispers in his ear, her long nails scratching at his scalp. Even wipes at his eyes. “You're too naïve for the outside world. They'd eat you up and spit you out before you even passed Corona city limits. And as for these silly dreams, you know what they are. You find these small things to manifest over, to obsess over, because you think it's a good idea at the time. Your mind isn't right, Even, you're not all there.”

Even sniffles, tries not to flinch. “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” He murmurs, tears wrapped around the tremors of his shaky voice.

Mother pats his head, and pulls back so their eyes meet. Her eyes are a deep brown, and shaped like a cat's eyes, equally as fierce. Even thinks of his own blue ones, and wonders if his father—Mother hasn't ever said much about his father, just that he ran away when Even was very young—has blue eyes, too.

“To him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin.” She kisses his forehead, and stands, gathering her things and tucking them into her basket. She even tucks away the porcelain hairbrush. “I'm going into Corona for six days, Even. No less. Is there anything you wish for me to get for you?”

Even clears his throat, raises himself off of the ground. “Perhaps some paints? I'm running out of all the primary colors. Maybe some acrylic white paint so I can cover some of these old paintings? Paint over them?” He requests, and Mother nods a few times, smiling widely.

“Of course, darling. I'm sure Corona has plenty of paints. Perhaps I can get you all acrylic?”

“That would be lovely, if it's not too expensive,” he allows, quietly.

Mother hums. “I'll be back soon, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble. Don't get any crazy ideas. And remember, I do this because I love you.”

Even nods once. “Goodbye, Mother.”

She descends down the stairs, and Even watches from the window up top as she crosses the grass of the alcove, and disappears behind a large rock formation. Even yearns to know what lies on the other side of that rock, if it's as spectacular and beautiful as what he'd been imagining based off of the pictures from his books.

He steps away from the window, grabs his mythology book and cracks it open to the story of the Orpheus and Eurydice. It was a tragic love story by all means; fatal sacrifice and love that transcends the boundaries of death. Even loves the entire story, reading the plight of Orpheus makes him feel less lonely sometimes, though he never had a Eurydice to lose. He was always lonely, never with anyone other than Mother. Orpheus maybe lonely without Eurydice, but at least he had her at one point, and at least he had others. Even has nobody, not up here in this tower.

He flips to the story about Narcissus and is halfway through, when something—or rather, someone—bursts through his window. He tosses the book aside and grabs the thing nearest to him, a frying pan, and then ducks behind one of his many bookshelves. He watches the man close the window, after looking outside it like he's running from someone, and then grab a satchel off the ground. The mysterious man opens it, and Even seizes the opportunity, tiptoeing up behind him and smacking him across the back of the head with the frying pan.

Surprisingly, it works. Even feels a little proud of himself, honestly.

He uses rope to tie the man to a chair. He decides to call him Bardolph. It fits, because the man is clearly a thief. Even had peeked into the satchel and seen a royal fucking crown, and no offense to Bardolph, but he doesn't particularly seem like the type of person fit to wear a crown like this.

Although, Even realizes as he sits across the room and stares at the unconscious intruder, Bardolph might not be accurate. Bardolph has an engorged nose and ugly features, is often the comic relief in Shakespeare's plays due to characters insulting him. And this man is definitely not ugly. He's got a classic look to him; all soft blond hair with a jawline, legs that are longer than Even's tower probably, and lips with a sinful dip that Even can't look away from. This man is beautiful, and only furthers his point that the outside does have beauty to offer.

But then Even remembers that this man is a thief, and well, that certainly puts a damper on things.

Mikael sits on the arm of the chair that Bardolph is tied to, inspects the man. He squeaks a couple of times, and Even hums. “I know he doesn't really look like a threat, or like he's capable of hurting anyone. But that's what's most dangerous, I think. Haven't you ever read any of the Nancy Drew books on my shelf? It's always the person you least expect.” He climbs off of the table, crosses the room to the turquoise chair.

Bardolph's eyes flutter, and Even is quick to scuttle backwards, hiding in the shadows. It takes a few moments for Bardolph to come to, but when he does, Even can see the panic in his eyes. “Hello?! Who's here?!” Bardolph's eyes dart around, and Even almost feels bad for knocking him out and tying him up. “Are you going to kill me?!”

Bardolph has the greenest eyes Even has ever seen in his life. Even wants to drink from them, all day everyday. “I'm not going to kill you,” he says quietly, emerging from the shadow, frying pan held out threateningly. Bardolph's demeanor change from fear to annoyance, so Even holds his weapon higher.

“Man, can you untie me and let me go?” Bardolph asks, and Even shakes his head pretty quickly. “Why, is this some kink of yours or something?” He tugs on the ropes, as if for emphasis. Even wonders what the hell he means, but he doesn't ask.

“I have your satchel, and it's hidden,” he says instead, and he watches Bardolph's eyes widen. “I'm fully prepared to turn you in. Unless, of course, you hold up your end of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“This one.” Even stands in front of him, lowers his frying pan to his side. “I want to go see the floating lights. And you're going to take me. It's a two day journey to Corona and back, and I need to be back in this tower after six days.”

Bardolph chuckles, and Even raises his frying pan. Why was Bardolph laughing? “I'm not taking you anywhere, Giraffe. I don't even know what floating lights you're talking about. Stars? Because you don't need to go to Corona to see stars, that's the good thing about them. They're visible everywhere,” he says sarcastically.

Even shakes his head. “No, the floating ones.” He points to the mural he'd painted of them, just to their right. Bardolph raises his eyebrows as he sees it. “I see them every year, and I'd like to go see them close up. I know they're coming from Corona.”

“Yeah, see, Giraffe, here's the thing. The people of Corona don't particularly like me all that much. That satchel that you stole from me is precisely why, so. Me returning to Corona isn't in my best interest.”

“Returning to the scene of the crime is never a smart choice,” Even says, pressing the frying pan under Bardolph's chin. “But neither is committing a crime in the first place. If you don't want to take me to see the lights, fine. But you'll be returning to Corona anyway, especially when the King and Queen get word of their most wanted fugitive tied up in a tower only a short trip from their kingdom.”

Bardolph groans, and Even pulls back, sitting on a stack of boxes. “Fine. I'll take you to see the lanterns.”

“Lanterns,” Even says quietly, rolling the word around his tongue. “I knew they weren't stars.”

“Yeah, like I said, stars are visible at all times of night.”

Even pushes himself off the boxes, and stands in front of Bardolph. “If we're going to take this journey, I need to know your name,” he says, and Bardolph sighs.

“Adrian Eksett.”

“Even.”

The boy, Adrian, nods. “Nice to meet you. Perhaps we can make this trip a little more interesting, you know. Have you ever kissed anybody before, Even?”

Even blushes. “No. I've never left this tower.”

“Never? In your whole life?”

“No.“ Even shrugs, and pulls his hair back out of his face with a bandana. “Mother wants to keep me here, keep me safe. But I'm turning 20 in a few days and I want to see the outside world. I want to see how beautiful life is outside of this tower.”

Adrian snorts. “Wow. Prepare to be disappointed. Corona is full of bullshit,” he says, and Even frowns, his shoulders sagging. Adrian apparently picks up on this, because he's quick to amend. “I mean, the castle is pretty. I guess Corona itself is.”

“You guess?” Even sighs, moving forward to free Adrian of his restraints. “I'll have to see for myself. Lets go, then.” He holds up his frying pan and pulls the satchel out from behind him, hooking it over his shoulder.

Adrian's eyes widen. “Wait, right now?”

“Yeah. Like I said, two day journey and I only have six days until Mother returns. So if we don't go now...” Even shrugs, starting for the stairs. “I can't actually open this door without a key. I figure that picking a lock is no problem for you.”

Sure enough, they're through the door and down the stairs in no time. And when they reach the bottom, Even doesn't hesitate to step out in the grass. It tickles his bare feet, and he giggles as it does, planting both feet firmly on the earth. He runs through streams and climbs trees and swings from a branch, his hands accustoming themselves to all these new feelings and textures.

All of the smells, the sounds, the feeling of everything... It's overwhelming. Even tears up at the feeling of the water rushing over his toes, at the soft stones on his feet. He's never known more than rough cobblestone held tightly by mortar, nothing more than splintering wood beams and smoothly painted walls. The grass is soft, the bark of a tree is rough, the water is methodic and careful and caresses his feet.

“The water,” Even says, eyes tearing up slightly as he looks up. “It's..so much better than I ever imagined it could be. I don't even know what to think, I'm so.. This is all so much.”

Adrian, however, doesn't seem as keen on stopping to smell the roses. Which Even actually does, because there's a rose bush on the blind side of the tower. “Giraffe, lets go. Don't you have somewhere to be? Believe it or not, I do, too. You're not the only one with plans and dreams,” he snaps.

Even blushes, removing his feet from the small stream and drying them on the tufts of grass. Adrian leads the way out of the alcove.  
  


....

  
About a day into the trip, Even can't help the anxiety that wells up in his stomach. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't have left, he's a horrible son, what would Mother think if she found out about this? He bites his lip and keeps trekking forward, plucking briar berries off of the briars and eating them one by one, hoping they're actual briar berries and not anything poisonous.

Adrian turns around, mid stride. “Are you going to keep up? You've slowed down, and you look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm fine,” Even insists. He bites his lip. “I'm fine. Just nervous. Whatever. It's fine.”

“Whatever you say.” Adrian shrugs, turns around and starts walking down the dirt path again.

Even hurries to keep up, so they're walking side by side. He looks up at Adrian nervously. “You know, I want to write plays one day,” he says, and Adrian raises his eyebrows but doesn't actually say anything. “You said that other people have dreams and stuff. Earlier, in the tower. And I just.. Seeing the lanterns aren't my only dream, you know. I want to be a playwright, like Shakespeare. I love Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet is the most romantic story, the most epic.”

“Don't they both die?”

“It's not an epic love story unless someone dies, Adrian,” Even says, as if it's obvious. Adrian snorts and rolls his eyes. “What? It's true! Romeo and Juliet is so epic because their love transcended death. They both died for each other.”

Adrian shakes his head. “That's not how I see it. I see it as a sexual predator preying on a 13 year old little girl and driving her to suicide. He only killed himself because he was guilty of various murders, including members of the Capulet family. He was an exile from Verona, and all. That's why he killed himself. Not because he was, like, in love with Juliet or anything, you know,” he explains, and Even widens his eyes.

“That's... That's not true!” Even splutters.

“Isn't it?” Adrian asks.

And Even considers it, he really does. And he sees where Adrian is coming from, he understands that's his interpretation of the play. But he's wrong. “No! It's not true at all, what are you talking about?” Even shakes his head, climbs over a large rock and jumping back down onto the dirt.

Adrian shrugs. “Maybe we've read different versions or something. I've just never found anything particularly romantic about a pedophile/murderer going after an innocent 13 year old girl for her sex. That's all,” he sighs, and Even splutters again.

He wants to keep arguing, he really does, but he clams up because they've suddenly approached a clearing. There's a rickety old building, with a sign boasting a yellow duck. “The Snuggly Duckling,” Even reads, and Adrian hums. “Sounds lovely. What is it?” He asks excitedly, and Adrian smirks.

“You'll see. I think you'll really enjoy these people, probably get along swimmingly.”

“Swimmingly. Like a duckling,” Even giggles, picking up the pace. Adrian follows him, pulls open the door to the place. Even steps in, only to be greeted by a dead silent room filled with gigantic men.

There's a man in the back corner with a boil on his nose the size of Mikael. There's a woman behind the counter with a mustache better than anything Even's been able to grow, talking to a man so ugly he really fits the Bardolph title that Even had given Adrian. They're all big and brutish, staring at Even and Adrian like they're ready to eat him.

Even smiles, “Hi! I'm Even, nice to meet you.” The men all just stare, and Even notices that Adrian is standing back by the door. Even just shrugs, and approaches the bar. He smiles at a man there, who's half naked. He whispers a knock knock joke to him, and just like that, all the men and women are back to business as usual.

They hang around there for nearly 45 minutes before Even runs into Adrian again. He smiles at the beautiful boy, knocking their shoulders together. “You were right, I am getting along with these guys! I never knew it was so easy to make friends. Mother clearly has no idea what she's talking about.” He smiles around at all the men, and Adrian rolls his eyes and grumbles something that Even can't hear.

“Are you ready to get going?” Adrian sighs, and Even frowns.

“Look,” he says quietly, practically whispering to Adrian, “I saw the poster behind the bar. I know you're wanted. Well, it didn't actually look exactly like you, the nose was pretty messed up. But the name was Adrian Eksett, so. I know you're wanted, and I know going to Corona isn't your cup of tea. But I really appreciate you taking me out here.”

Adrian stares at him contemplatively for a couple of moments. Even feels kind of vulnerable, and he blushes under Adrian's gaze, but then the younger boy is nodding his head at the bar. “Come on, Blondie. Join me for a drink,” he says, his voice the kindest that Even's ever heard it. Even smiles wide and agrees, following Adrian over.

Mustache Lady, who's name is Gertrude, pours two cups of amber liquid. Adrian gulps half of it easily, but Even gags on first taste. “What is this stuff?” Even groans, and Adrian laughs into his glass.

“Beer,” Gertrude says, and Even stares down at his drink in disgust. “Haven't you ever had beer, Giraffe?” And, okay, Even hadn't known that nickname was spreading.

“No,” Even mutters, drinking the rest of it in one gulp. Adrian looks rather impressed, knocking back the rest of his drink and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Adrian pats his arm. “Come on, then. No use in hanging around here any longer than necessary.” They both stand up, Adrian tossing the bartender a few gold pieces, but no sooner does that happen than they hear horses outside. Even looks out the window, and sees royal guards.

“Royal guards,” Even hisses, pulling on Adrian's arm. “We have to hide, Adrian, hurry.”

The bartender helps them into a hatch behind the bar, and they end up running down some dark tunnel. Even figures it's just his luck to end up in this situation, running from royal guards like some criminal.

All the twists and turns lead them to the top of some cliff, with water down below. Even hesitates, stepping back with his bare feet burning against the rocks. Adrian rugs on his arm. “Come on, Even, we've got to jump. That's the only way out of here, we have to jump,” he insists, and Even stares at him with wide, scared eyes.

“I don't... I don't know to swim,” Even whispers, and Adrian grabs his hand, pulling him towards the edge.

“I'll help you. Just jump, okay? Please, if you want to see the lanterns, you have to jump.” Even nods, and takes a deep breath. Adrian counts to three and the next thing Even knows, they're hurtling through the air, towards the crystal clear pond of water below.

Even almost panics when he hits the water, but Adrian's hand never leaves his. He drags him towards the shore, and they climb out of the water against the rough rocks and the sand. Adrian cries out in pain at one point, and Even quickly looks over to see a cut across the palm of his hand. Adrian is quick to keep crawling, though, pulling them out of the water and into the canopy of trees.

It's dark by the time they reach a clearing big enough to set up camp. Adrian starts a fire and Even hangs up his clothes, save for his undergarments, to dry by it. Adrian does the same, and works with a strip of fabric to mend his hand.

Even bites his lip, crawling closer. “Let me see it,” he says.

Adrian pulls his hand away. “It's fine, Giraffe. It's no big deal.” He wipes his hand again, and Even rolls his eyes, pulling Adrian's hand into his lap. He grabs one end of his long hair, placing it over the wound. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Even rolls his eyes, smiling a little. “Watch your language, Adrian.” He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

_Flower, gleam and glow_  
_Let your power shine_  
_Make the clock reverse_  
_Bring back what once was mine_

On cue, Even's hair starts glowing. He hears Adrian swear, feels as Adrian tries to scramble away while also keeping his hand under Even's hair.

_Heal what has been hurt_  
_Change the Fates' design_  
_Save what has been lost_  
_Bring back what once was mine_  
_What once was mine_

Adrian pulls his hand away, and Even opens his eyes to see the wound has been healed without a scar or a speck of blood left behind. He smiles, but Adrian's eyes are wide and scared, looking properly terrified. Even blushes, folding his hands in his lap and waiting for Adrian to just say something, anything.

“What...the fuck was that?” Adrian asks, sounding more horrified than he looks, but also a little awestruck. He keeps turning his hand over, looking for any evidence of his gash, of course finding none.

Even shrugs. “I don't really know, if I'm honest. I've always been able to do it. My hair... It's why I'm locked in the tower, you know. Mother wants to keep me safe from people who might want to hurt me because of it.”

Adrian's eyes stay wide for a few minutes, before they cloud with realization. The fear dissipates, but the awe remains. “My... My real name is Isak Valtersen,” he blurts, and Even squints in confusion, tilting his head. “You.. You told me a secret, so... There's one in return, I guess.”

“My secret wasn't a very good secret,” Even says, and Adrian—Isak—raises his eyebrows a bit. “I'm bipolar. That's a better one.”

Isak nods hesitantly. “Well. Thank you for telling me.” He looks back to Even's long hair, and for the next hour or so, he explains to Isak just what his hair can do and how he can never cut it. They lay down on the soft grass, the fire warming their cool skin, staring up at the stars. And Even knows now, that the floating lights definitely aren't stars. The stars are too far away, too distant of a dream.

“Have you...” Even begins, turning to look at Isak. Isak turns, looks back, and Even blushes a little. “Have you ever kissed a boy?”

Isak huffs a small laugh. “Yes, I have. Just one other boy,” he murmurs, and Even nods once. “He didn't like me all that much. He was into girls, so.” He waves his hand, and Even laughs a little, which makes Isak chuckle too.

“That's stupid. I'm into girls, too, but I think I'd also like to kiss a boy. I'd like to kiss everybody.”

“Polyamory?”

“No,” Even snorts. Isak makes fun of him for snorting, which only makes Even cover his mouth and laugh harder, leading to even more snorting. “No, not polyamory. Just..poly-attraction. Is that a thing?”

Isak nods a bit. “Yeah. Bisexual or pansexual.”

“What's the difference?”

“Well,” Isak says, “bisexuality is like, attraction to men and women. Pansexuality is attraction that isn't limited by gender or activity or whatever. They're similar but not the same.”

Even thinks for a moment. A long few moments, about what he thinks he is. “I think.. I'm pansexual, maybe,” he says quietly, and Isak nods in encouragement, reaching out to pat Even's hand. Even's heart blooms. “Yeah. Pansexual. What are you?”

Isak laughs, rolling onto his back and spreading out like a starfish. Even smiles, despite not knowing what's funny, rolling onto his stomach and propping up on his elbows so he can see Isak's face again. “I'm so fucking gay, man,” he giggles, meeting Even's eyes and giggling even harder. Even smiles wider, so hard his face hurts.

“Good for you. Being gay sounds awesome.”

“So does being pansexual. I love girls, just not like that,” Isak says, sitting up. Even sits up, too, and Isak scoots closer. “When I was younger, I had a girlfriend named Sara. Needless to say, our relationship was not very sexual. I was like her therapist, or something. All she did was bitch about all of her friends. She turned out to be a lesbian, though, just as I was gay the whole time. She's dating her school best friend named Ingrid, who used to date my best friend Jonas, who was the guy I was crushing on. Funny how things work, isn't it?”

Even blinks. “Is everyone in the world gay?” He means it innocently, he's genuinely curious, but Isak laughs like Even's just made a joke. Even blushes a little bit, embarrassed at his own inexperience, but Isak is so lovely when he laughs, and Even thinks he wouldn't mind his first kiss to be with a boy as beautiful as him.

“God, sometimes I forget that you've literally been locked in a tower your whole life,” Isak wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah, pretty much everything is gay. Don't let anybody in Corona or elsewhere convince you otherwise.”

“Who would try to convince me otherwise?”

Isak shrugs. “There's some bad people out here, Even. That's one thing your mother was right about. Murderers and rapists, and people who will rape and murder simply because of someone's sexuality. Hate crimes are surprisingly common.” He looks down at the dirt, and Even tries to catch his eyes. “My friend Magnus, he's bisexual. And he was in a gay bar one night when some royal guards came and... terrorized them all, basically. The King and Queen certainly tore them a new one, and the guards were put in the dungeon, but it's sad to see such hatred coming from the palace, whether it's the views of the monarchy or not.”

Even bites his lip, and crawls closer. He wraps Isak in a tentative hug, and it takes so long for Isak to hug back that Even nearly pulls away. But Isak pulls him back as soon as Even backs up, pressing his face into Even's shoulder. Even rubs his back, holds him until Isak's breathing calms down again.

“How about we go to sleep now?” Even offers, and Isak nods a little.

“Yeah, okay. Do you need anything?” Isak asks, his eyes wide when he pulls back. Even smiles to himself, because it feels nice to know that Isak kind of cares. Even shakes his head and lays down on the soft ground, making a pillow out of some moss.

Isak does the same, laying down next to him. Even can see his green eyes from the soft light coming from the slowly dying fire. “Your eyes are really pretty. They have gold in them,” Even whispers, across the dark, empty space between them.

“My mum used to say I was a thief because I have gold in my eyes,” Isak murmurs. “That I've been hungry for gold pieces ever since those gold flecks showed up there.”

“Sounds like she didn't think that highly of you.”

“No, perhaps not. But I didn't exactly give her a reason to think I was anything more than a thief and a gold digger. Maybe I'm not more than that, I don't know.”

Even furrows his eyebrows. “I think you're more than that. A lot more than that. And maybe I don't know everything about you yet, but like, I think that's okay. Because that means I have plenty to keep learning.” He bites his lip, and then, with a rush of confidence that he doesn't know the source of, he adds, “And I think really highly of you.”

Isak doesn't say anything for a long time. So long that Even worries that Isak had fallen asleep. He even starts closing his own eyes, but then Isak's voice flutters across the crackling twigs in the fire pit. “Thank you.” And then, “Goodnight, Giraffe.” Even doesn't respond.

  
....

  
There’s barely any light filtering through the canopy of trees when Even wakes up next. His skin is chilled, the fire having gone out at some point in the night, and his throat is burning from the lack of water. He brings himself to his feet and grabs the small pot that Isak had produced, walking through the trees until he finds the small stream that Isak had collected water from the night before.

He drops to his knees on the bank, running his fingers through the clear water as it trickles by. It feels like cool velvet on his fingers, tickling and yet not. He picks a pebble up off the bottom, and then another, and another. The surface of them is smooth like glass, weathered by time and the current, and Even smooths his thumb over them over and over. He drops all three, though, when the current drops a rock right in front of him; small, such a light pink that it almost looks white, and shaped like a heart. He smiles, tucks it in his pocket and then dips the pot in the water.

Once it fills up, he stands and turns to head back to the clearing. When he turns, however, he abruptly drops the pot, subsequently spilling all the water he’d collected, because he’s face to face with Mother. And she looks _furious_. Even gulps, taking a step back and nearly slipping on the soaked earth. “Mother!” He squeaks, and she cocks an eyebrow. “How did you.. How did you know where to find me?”

She licks her lips slowly, and then sucks her teeth once. “You’re shacking it up with a criminal, I see,” she says instead of answering, nodding her head towards the clearing where Isak is still sleeping. “Adrian Eksett is a wanted thief. He’s stolen various items from the royals, from townspeople, from nobles. He’s exactly the type of person I’m trying to protect you from.”

“No, Mother, he’s not like that. I know he’s done some bad things, but he’s not a bad person, I swear. He’s like Robin Hood, or something, and I know that doesn’t excuse him, but Mother, please,” he begs. He looks desperately towards the campground, and then back to her displeased and unimpressed face.

“He’s a thug, Even!” She yells, and Even shakes his head. “He’s a no-good thief who has zero regard for anyone other than himself and his own personal gain. I hope you don’t think he actually cares about you, Even, darling. He doesn’t.”

“You’re wrong. He does care, I know he does. We’re friends, Mother, I think he might like me. I don’t know, but I like him. He’s taking me to see the floating lights.”

Mother laughs, and Even frowns. “You don't even know what you're talking about, Even. These things that you're convincing yourself you want, they're all in your head. You're _crazy_ , Even, clinically insane. I love you, darling, and it's my job to protect you from making these choices when your head isn't with you.” She opens her cloak, holds out the satchel. Even gasps, eyes widening. “Give him the satchel, he’ll be gone so fast that all you’ll be left with is the dust off of his ass. The door won’t hit him on the way out, sweetheart, I promise you that right now.”

“Motherー”

“No? Thought so.” She tosses the satchel to Even anyway, and he barely manages to catch it. Tears well in his eyes. “Mother knows best, darling, and you know it. If you haven’t figured it out by now, you will. Give him that, and he’ll be gone before next daybreak. Go after him, and any shred of your sanity that is still there will go with him.”

She disappears just like that, and Even is left crying on the bank of a stream, mud on his shoes and a stolen crown in his hand. His bottom lip trembles as he hides the satchel and weakly picks up the pot, filling it with water once more and lugging it back to camp. He uses the trek to try and calm himself down, and that’s a good thing, because Isak is awake and poking at the embers of last night’s fire when he returns.

“Oh, great, you got water. I was going to do that once I got this fire going again,” Isak smiles, and Even nods meekly, putting the pot down and sitting on his moss pillow. Isak raises his eyebrows. “Not a morning person?”

“I am, usually,” Even says, and tries to joke, “You lucked out. Normally I’m up singing and trust me, I can’t sing.”

Isak smiles a little. “I’m actually a pretty decent singer. If only someone was looking for someone to sing for them, I wouldn’t have to do what I do.”

“Why do you?” Even asks. “Do what you do, I mean?”

The fire goes up, and Even places the pot of water to boil. They sit back in the grass, and Isak finally shrugs. “I actually have a family, if you’ll believe it. My mother and my little sister live a few hours travel out of Corona. I steal things, sell them to traders or black market dealers, and use the gold pieces to buy food or winter clothes for them when it’s necessary.” He looks up at Even, and the older boy realizes that Isak actually has tears in his eyes. It’s the first time he’s seen Isak cry. “My father skipped out on us when I was 15. Left town with his mistress, the neighbor’s ex-wife. My mother had a total mental breakdown, she’s mentally ill, too, and she’s only gotten worse. She’s unable to support me and my sister, and no one will hire me. I do what I can to take care of them. They don’t have anyone else and I don’t have any other options.”

The tears in Isak’s eyes actually start to fall, and Even panics. What is he supposed to do? Does Isak want a hug, does he want to be left alone? Does he want Even to pretend he isn’t crying? He isn’t quite sure of the social protocol, but he knows for damn sure that he never wants to see Isak cry like this ever again. It hurts him, deep down, more than he thought it would. He’d idealized Isak as some strong guy, who knows the woods like the back of his hand and can kick ass at the drop of a dime. And it’s nice to see the other side, the vulnerable side, even if it kills Even to see.

“So, anyways. I really want my little sister to have a better life than this. I don’t want her to grow up and follow in my footsteps. I want to be a good role model for her, and I feel like I’ve failed at doing that. Like, fuck, what am I doing with my life? Stealing things that other people have earned, and paid for? Taking things that don’t belong to me and selling them to people who I don’t know from a can of paint? All to buy a loaf of stale bread and a tin of oats so my mother and my sister can eat for a week and a half, and then stealing from the next innocent family?”

“It’s so much more than that,” Even says quietly, and Isak laughs, swiping at his cheeks. “I told you that there was more to you. And this..this is so deep and personal, Isak. It’s admirable. You’ve done some bad things, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“All I’ve done is teach Lea that if she’s not successful, she has the right to take other people’s things, like she has a right to them.” He sniffles, and Even finally gives in, leans over to pull Isak into a side hug. Isak melts into it, and Even wonders if Isak even remembers that last time someone held him like this. “She wants to be a doctor, you know. A veterinarian.”

Even smiles a bit, rubs Isak’s back. “She’ll be a great one. And she’ll be thanking her big brother for helping her learn values, like family, and for providing for his family even when things seemed impossible. She’ll thank you for being strong, and putting others above yourself, and for showing unsurpassable amounts of bravery. Bravery and strength that other people can only dream of having.”

Isak doesn’t say anything, so Even just comforts him for a while. They watch the water boil, split a few breakfast bars, and watch as a bunny hops through the clearing. It isn’t until after everything is cleaned and they’re getting ready to head into Corona, which is now only a couple of hours away, that Isak speaks again.

“Happy birthday, Even,” he says, and Even can’t help the fond smile that graces his face as he murmurs a thank you.

  
....

  
Arriving in Corona makes nerves settle like steel in Isak’s gut. If any royal guards see him, if he’s recognized by anyone, he’s fucked from here to Timbuktu. He starts scanning the area, looking for any sign of the bright red uniforms, sighing in relief when he doesn’t see any. He turns to tell Even that they need to work out where to watch the floating lanternsーhe’d seen these lanterns so many times, and yet, somehow, this was the most excited he’d ever been to see themㅡonly to see Even happily engaging a pretty girl on the street corner. Next thing he knows, Even is sitting in the chair and chatting up the girl as she braids his hair.

A weird feeling ignites in Isak’s chest as he watches Even smile up at the girl. Her hair was a pretty blonde, her lips a baby pink, matching her fluffy sweater. She spoke happily, clearly charmed by Even. And Isak isn’t surprised, Even is so kind and naïve that it’s endearing, of course anybody who meets him will fall instantly in love with him. Isak can relate, and well, isn’t that a scary thought.

Even’s hair is so goddamn long that it takes ages for it to be braided. Isak busies himself with finding out the time and location for the lanterns, and playing jacks with a group of young giggling kids. The kids treat him like a celebrity, and Isak knows that they’ve probably seen his wanted posters. It’s not the best reputation, and definitely not the one Isak wants for himself, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He’d almost forgotten all the horrible things he’d done. Even had made him forget. It was only in due time that he’d remember.

“Can I ask you something?” one little boy asks, and Isak nods a bit, dropping the ball and scooping up as many jacks as he can fit in his palm. He counts out 7, and then drops them back down, handing the ball over. “Did you really steal the royal crown? Because, if you did, you should give it back. What else will the prince wear when he returns?” He asks, his voice incredulous.

Isak purses his lips. “That’s assuming that the prince will return. The likelihood of a missing person being dead increases after only 48 hours, you know. And the prince has been gone for nearly 20 years. That’s about 175,316 hours.”

A girl tugs on his sleeve, and when Isak turns, he sees her frowning angrily at him. “It’s not nice to say that people are dead, Adrian. The prince is coming back. My mommy says so,” she says, and sticks her tongue out. Isak can’t stop the smile, and he reaches out to smooth her hair back. Clearly, she has it on good authority.

He’s about to take his turn again, when one of the kids is abruptly pulled up off the ground by an angry mother. The other children stand up, too, eyes wide and scared. “Henriette, I’ve warned you about this. About talking to strangers, and wanted criminals, no less?! Have I taught you nothing?! Stay away from Adrian Eksett, all of you,” she chides, and the children scatter. The mother glares at him. “How dare you have the audacity. I should contact the guards.” She turns on her heels and saunters off, and Isak flips her off as she walks away.

“Isak!” He hears, and he turns to see Even jogging towards him.

He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face as Even stops in front of him, smile bright and eyes dancing. This boy isn’t all that different than the one in the tower, except maybe he is. He’s happier. Not to say that Even wasn’t happy before, that boy seems to have an inability to ever be sad about anything ever, but it seems more organic now, more genuine and natural. He seems to be happy without reminding himself that he has to be.

“Can I ask you something?” Isak says, and Even nods. “Were you really happy in that tower? I know you’ll say that you were, and I know that you acted like you were. But.. You’re a people person. You’ve loved every single person that we’ve met so far and I just can’t imagine someone as bubbly as you genuinely liking being held in isolation.”

Even shrugs once, and there’s a sad lilt to his voice when he says, “Sometimes it helps to just pretend that you’re fine.” And that breaks Isak’s heart more than it should. To be quite honest, Isak wasn’t even sure he had a heart before he met Even. “That lady, Vilde, she did my hair. Do you like it? She’s really good at this cosmetic stuff, she says. Makeup and all. I was gonna let her do my makeup but she said that all of her cosmetics had melted in the sun. But look, she put flowers in it,” he muses, his voice so jovial that Isak can’t help but smile. Even turns around, and Isak admires all the small flowers tucked into the nooks and crannies of Even’s golden hair.

“Your hair looks like real gold in the sunlight,” Isak says, and then he furrows his eyebrows. Did he actually just say that out loud? What the hell has gotten into him?

Even turns back around, smiling so wide that Isak loses his train of thought. He’s growing too fond of this idiot for his own good, but for some reason, he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. Ever. He wants to keep feeling like this for his whole life, and that’s a really scary thought considering he’s only known Even for 72 hours, but he’s so scared that he’ll leave Even at the tower and then he’ll never meet anyone like him again. Hell, there’s probably no one on the face of the earth that could even compare to Even, and besides, Isak doesn’t want anyone else.

He is so _fucked_.

“Thanks. My hair is my best feature, you know,” Even teases, and Isak smiles, because fuck, he agrees. “You know what yours is? Your eyes. They have gold in them. I painted a boy in my tower with green and gold eyes, did you know? Did you see it when you were there? Now that I think about it, it kind of looks like you. Hm. Maybe we’re soulmates. Do you believe in soulmates, Isak?”

“Ask me again sometime.”

Even rolls his eyes, knocking his shoulder into Isak’s. “Lame. Whatever. Come on, let’s go see the castle. It’s fucking huge.” His eyes widen, and Isak bursts into loud laughter. “Oh, my God! I’ve never sworn before! Isak, stop laughing at me! Ugh, oh my god, you’re so mean.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you, sweetheart,” he says, surprising even himself when the term of endearment slips out. Even just preens at it, though, so Isak isn’t too embarrassed.

“Shut up, you’re mean. Take me to the castle.”

They spend all day wandering around, looking at everything. Well, Even looks at everything. He charms every person he meets, and ends up with a small dreamcatcher and a palace flagㅡa purple flag with a bright gold sun on it. Even tucks that into his pocket, but puts the dreamcatcher between them, insists that it’s mistletoe and Isak has to kiss him. Isak laughs and calls him a nerd, but he can’t help but think how he wouldn’t exactly mind kissing Even all that much.

When the sun starts setting, Isak gets the idea. Even has been obsessing over the lake that surrounds the castle. Clearly, Even loves water, because that’s the one thing he’s fallen the most in love with over the trip. Meanwhile, Isak thinks it’s Even that he’s fallen the most in love with.

“Hey, Even, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing Even’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Even raises his eyebrows at the touch, but doesn’t protest, following Isak as he leads him out of the town square towards the lake. They’re halfway there when Even abruptly stops, and Isak turns to see what’s caught his attention.

Across a wall, there’s a painted photo of the royal family. A mother, a father, and a baby boy. The boy has bright gold hair, and blue eyes that Isak hasn’t seen on anyone else except Even. He turns, tries to catch Even’s gaze, to ask him if he’s okay. But Even is shaking himself out of it before he can, squeezing Isak’s hand and saying he’s ready to go, that he doesn’t want to be late. Isak decides to oblige, and not ask.

They manage to snag a canoe, and Isak rows them as far out on the water as he can. There’s other boats around them, containing married couples and children and teens, the rich and the poor and the middle class, men and women and others. That’s not counting those on land, or in the castle, or on the bridge. So many people gathering together, even now, 20 years after the disappearance of the prince, as if there’s any hope that the poor baby is alive. Isak has never particularly believed that the prince lived long. His captor(s) surely would’ve put up a ransom or something, that has to be more valuable than some kidnapped child. As morbid as it sounds.

Even leans over the edge and skims his fingers over the surface of the water, quietly counting the ripples. Isak watches, too, using Even’s quiet counting to keep time with his rowing. Even looks fascinated. “I think you were a mermaid in another life,” Isak says quietly, and Even gives him a confused look. “You know, there’s like, infinite universes parallel to this one. And everything that can happen, will happen, and is happening right now, somewhere out there. And in a universe somewhere, I don’t know where, you’re a mermaid. And I think that in all universes, you love water.”

“That sounds...crazy. Kind of lonely. I think life is more like a play, like, you can direct your life and write what happens, you know?” He says, and Isak nods, thinking back to when Even said he wanted to be a playwright one day. “Doesn’t everybody like water, anyway? Don’t you?”

Isak shakes his head, placing the oars in their holsters once they’re out in the middle of the lake. The lights of Corona light up the night sky, and it’s a lot more beautiful than Isak remembers it ever being. “No,” Isak says. “I’m actually afraid of water. I can swim, as you found out when we were running from the Snuggly Duckling, but I'm actually terrified of water. During a swimming lesson once, I choked on water and nearly fucking died. My best friend kept laughing at me,” he murmurs, and blushes under the fond smile that Even gives him. It makes floating lanterns go off in his stomach, and he wonders if Even can see the gold lighting up in Isak’s eyes from their light.

“The more I learn about you, the more fascinated I become,” Even says, and Isak snorts.

“Is that a good thing? Should I be flattered?”

“Mhm,” Even hums. “I’ve been fascinated by many things. Shakespearean tragedies, floating lanterns, string theory, lakes and streams, castles, the history of art, the difference between pansexual and bisexual, why people use religion as a use for hatred… And yet, I’ve never been more intrigued in anything as much as I am with you.”

Isak raises his eyebrows, leans back a little bit in the boat. There’s a cool breeze going across the top of the water, and he tries not to think about how Even’s hair would look blowing in it, were it not up in a braid. One of the flowers in Even’s hair does fall out, landing gently on the water, barely making a ripple as it floats away. Isak scoops it up when Even isn’t looking, gently tucks it in his pocket.

Even grabs a lantern, and smiles up at Isak. “Thank you for bringing me here. I really do owe you for doing this for me.”

“No, you don’t,” Isak says. But when Even looks like he might protest, Isak jumps in again. “Okay, fine, just.. Write a play about me.”

“I will write a play about you,” Even grins, and Isak laughs. “Do you know what it’ll be called?”

“What?”

Even smiles wickedly, “The boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater.”

Isak groans, dips his hand in the water and splashes it on Even. Even just giggles, face bright like a child’s, brighter than the city that’s buzzing with life just across the lake. Isak laughs, too, when Even splashes him back. “You’re a child,” Isak laughs, and Even scoffs, insists that Isak had started it. “No, I didn’t! You did, you’re the one making fun of me for _nearly drowning_ ,” Isak splutters, and Even nearly tips the boat from laughing so hard.

As if waiting for permission, from Even or Isak or God, lanterns start floating. Isak scrambles to prepare his, and Even follows suit, and then they’re both holding their lanterns out in front of them, watching the flames lick the insides of the lantern. Even counts down from three, and then they both let go, watching them go up, up, up. Even’s eyes are so wide and awestruck, that Isak can’t actually look away from them.

There’s a whole display going on around them, and yet Isak can’t look away from the same set of blue eyes he’s been looking at for three days straight.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Even breathes, his voice coating with tears. He reaches over, lifting up a lantern that hard started to fall. Isak just smiles a little to himself, and nods once, never looking away from Even. Jesus Christ, he’s up shit creek without a paddle, and he doesn’t even _care_. This is the type of shit that happens in romances, not in real life, and yet, here they are, here Isak is, falling in love with a guy he barely knows.

Isak swallows hard, forces himself to look at the lanterns, looking like lava flowing up a volcano. He wonders if the lanterns will reach the moon; wishes they could, instead of falling down or burning up in the atmosphere. He thinks the lanterns would make good stars in the sky, pleasant to look at when you’re feeling particularly lonely. Isak could be stuck in the middle of a heist, look up at the lanterns and remember this moment, right now, sitting in a rowboat with an actual cherub. And maybe he wouldn’t feel as shitty about himself.

Another lantern release, another year, and no sign of the prince. Isak can’t say he’s surprised, but the slight sting of disappointment hadn’t lessened over the years. That disappointment does go forgotten, though, when Even turns to him and, with a small smile, holds out the satchel. Isak didn’t even know that Even had kept it on him this whole time.

“You’ve earned this,” Even says, and if Isak didn’t know better, he’d think Even sounded a little choked up. Isak accepts the satchel hesitantly, keeping his eyes on Even’s. “You held up your end of the promise, so I’ll hold up mine. When I promise something, I never, ever, ever break that promise. I’m a man of my word, if nothing else.”

If nothing else. Isak doesn’t like the way that sounds. “All the gods, all the heavens, all the hells are within you.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I read it,” Isak says quietly, and Even nods, looking back over the water. Isak opens the satchel, looks right past the sparkling crown to the small rock down in the bottom. Confused, he reaches in, and pulls out a small whiteㅡno, pinkㅡrock, in the shape of a heart. He turns it over in the palm of his hand, and looks up to see Even looking at it, too. He looks nervous. And that’s when Isak realizes that Even had deliberately put that there. Isak doesn’t know what that means, doesn’t care. He just puts it back, and puts the satchel aside, reaches for Even’s hands. “I don’t want that.”

Even looks confused, now. “What do you want, then?”

Isak doesn’t respond. Not verbally. He just gently pulls on Even’s hands, pulls him closer. Even goes without a fight, so Isak pulls him so close that their lips are only a breath away. “Is this okay?” He asks quietly, and Even nods hurriedly. Isak leans in further, brushes their lips together for a moment before gently pressing them together, so as to not overwhelm Even.

Even, though, seems to be doing fine. He wraps his arms around Isak’s waist and presses their chests together, their lips firmly together. Isak gently cups Even’s cheeks, licking into his mouth when Even opens it. It takes a while for Even to get the hang of it, and the kiss is a little sloppy and uncoordinated because of it, but it’s the best kiss Isak has ever had. Probably because it means more than any other kiss he’s ever had.

It’s every cliche he can imagine rolled into one. It’s fireworks and angel choirs and an axis-tilting, earth-shattering, life-changing religious experience. Isak can’t stop kissing this boy now that he’s started, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

They row the boat back up to the shore, and set up camp just inside the treeline. They kiss to make up for all the time they hadn’t, hands exploring each other’s bodies and eyes drinking in every piece of skin that gets revealed. They don’t go any farther than kissing, because Even is so far from ready for that, and Isak isn’t about to take advantage of him. He genuinely cares about Even, and he doesn’t want to fuck it up like he fucks up everything else.

When all the lights go down, and the only source of illumination is the reflection of the moonlight off of the lake, Even pillows his head on Isak’s chest and Isak lets him. They cuddle and kiss and whisper things; sweet nothings, and banter, and existential questions about life. Even falls asleep first, and Isak takes the time to appreciate how pure he looks before allowing himself to drift off, too.

  
....

  
Even is used to waking up alone. What he’s not used to is the white-hot knife going through his heart that accompanies it. It aches, and stings, and burns. Even nearly cries out in pain when he wakes up and realizes that Isak, and the satchel, are gone. Long gone, without a note or a trace or a sound, not even a goodbye kiss. It hurts, more than anything Even’s ever felt before, and he feels so fucking stupid.

“I told you so,” he hears, and he doesn’t have the energy to turn around. He knows it’s Mother, he knows she’s probably been watching them this whole time. Even doesn’t have the resolve to say anything to her, so he doesn’t. “Darling, I warned you about people like him. And I warned you about making decisions like this. You're _sick_ , Even, don't you get that?! Can't you make peace with the fact that your feelings, and these crazy ideas of people, they're not rational. You don't love him, Even.”

He stands on shaky knees, wobbly knees, and spins to face her. He doesn't give a shit about what she says about him, not right now. “How do I even know he’s gone? He could be anywhere, Mother, getting water or–” Mother cuts him off by extending a finger towards the lake, and that’s when Even sees him, standing on a boat with satchel in hand. Halfway across the water, headed for the castle.

Wait a moment. Headed for the castle.

“Bullshit,” Even says, and Mother’s eyes widen as she scolds his language. “No. This is bullshit. He was so tense and scared when we were in Corona yesterday, Mother. There’s no way he’d be sailing _towards_ the castle with the stolen crown. He should be halfway to his mother’s village, trying to pawn it off. Why would he be going to the castle, that’s..that’s suicide. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Don’t you get it?!” Mother explodes, and Even flinches. “Nothing about this world makes sense! There isn’t a logical explanation for everything, all of the facts of life can’t be listed down in all of that literature you constantly stick your nose in. You can’t make sense out of everything, Even, so stop trying to! There’s nothing you can do! You made the stupid decision to trust someone who was just waiting for the chance to screw you over, and now that it’s happened, we don’t have time for your petty denial. Stop being so headstrong and _insane_ and just—”

Even interrupts her, “Don’t ever call me that. I am not fucking insane.”

“You’re bipolar.”

“I’m not crazy!” Even yells, practically vibrating with anger. “I have never felt anything that compares to the way I feel when I’m around him, Mother. I know he’s done bad things, but so have I, and.. We’re soulmates, Mother. We are. I was made to love him, I think, and I just need the chance to fall in love with him. Why don’t you want me to be happy?”

She grips his wrist, so tight that Even cries out in pain. “Because this isn’t about you, you imbecile. None of this has ever been about you and you know it. You need to get back in that tower before someone finds you here, before someone connects you to Adrian Eksett. Before you smear my name with your homosexuality with a damn bandit. And that is going to happen right now, whether you want it to or not,” she snaps, digging her nails so hard into his wrist that he swears she draws blood.

Even shakes his head, musters all of his strength to pull his hand out of hers. He backs up towards the water, steps into it. Climbs into the canoe, and pushes it off. He barely makes it off of shore before she’s jumping in, trying to capsize it. “I will never let you use my hair again,” Even breathes, and she practically growls.

“You will not return to that castle. Someone will figure out who you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t figured it out?” She asks, cackling a laugh. And Even is confused for all of four seconds, before he remembers the painting of the missing prince, and how the blue eyes and golden hair had reminded him of someone he thought he knew. He hadn’t realized it was himself.

“I’m the missing prince,” he says, and Mother makes a grab for the oar whilst he’s distracted. Even moves his hand, hitting her back with the oar and knocking her out of the canoe. He seizes the opportunity to start rowing with all of his might, leaving her there to wither or drown or swim back to shore, he doesn’t fucking care, he just needs to get to Isak.

The boat is slow, but he gets to the raft before it hits the other shore. He jumps on, sees Isak tied to the steering wheel, unconscious and bleeding. Even can’t help the sob that escapes his throat as he unties Isak’s wrists, waist, and ankles. He cries the whole time he tries to wake Isak up, using kisses and water and anything he can think of, begging Isak to please fucking wake up.

It could be minutes, hours, or years, Even isn’t sure, before Isak’s eyes start to open. Even sobs again, wraps him up in his arms and apologizes one thousand times over, that it was Mother and he’s sorry and he’ll stay out of Isak’s life if that’s what he wants. Isak just clings, dazed and tired probably, and Even holds on until they get too close to shore. He helps Isak into the canoe, and he paddles them both back towards the woods, satchel tucked under the seat.

“I didn’t leave,” Isak whispers hoarsely, when Even steps out of the canoe to secure it to the opposite shore. Mother is gone, and Even doesn’t know where she went, doesn’t care in the moment. She could be dead for all he knows or cares.

“I know. It was Mother, she… She was trying to turn you in to the royal guards. They’d see you with the crown and put you in the dungeon and she’d lock me back up in the tower. Have me thinking you left me, so I’d finally be convinced that the outside world is bad like she always told me it was.”

“This world is a bad place, Even.”

Even shakes his head, helping Isak back onto solid ground. “No, it isn’t. This world is full of life and love, and I will never go back to that tower.” He bites his lip, sitting down on the ground. Isak joins, lacing his fingers with Even’s. “She was only using me for my hair, you know. She’d brush it while I sang, and she’d stay young. That’s why she kidnapped me.”

“Woah, what? How long have you known you were kidnapped?”

“Like, an hour maybe?” Even shrugs, plucking grass out of the ground. “You’ve known a lot longer, though. You’ve known that I was kidnapped for as long as you knew the meaning behind the floating lanterns.”

Isak’s eyes widen. “What the hell are you on about?”

Even’s eyes fill with tears, and Isak is quick to pull him into a hug. Even folds into it, pressing his face into Isak’s neck. “I’m the lost prince, Isak,” he sobs, and he feels Isak tense in the embrace. It makes Even hold tighter. “She took me from my parents and locked me in that tower so they’d never find me. She never loved me, she never… She’s not my mother. My mother is in the castle right now, mourning the son she probably thinks is dead.”

“Even, baby,” Isak soothes, rubbing Even’s back. Even just keeps crying, isn’t sure if he’ll be able to stop crying any time soon. “Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay. She’ll get what’s coming to her, and we’ll go meet your parents, and everything will be okay. They’ll love you, they’ll be proper parents. I promise. You deserve that so much, baby.”

Even pulls back abruptly. “Isak, I need you to do something for me. It’s really important, okay, please, you have to do this.”

The younger boy wipes Even’s tears, and nods once. “Anything, sweetheart.”

“Cut my hair,” he says, and Isak looks properly horrified at the very idea of doing so. “Isak, please. If I keep my hair, then Mother will keep coming after me. People will keep coming after me, they’ll keep using me, and I can’t do that anymore, Isak, please. I want the King and Queen, my _parents_ to love me for me. Not for my hair. Please, Iss, please do this for me. I can’t do it myself, I need you to do it, please.”

Isak hushes him, smooths his hands over Even’s face and hair. It works wonders to calm him down, makes his tears slow and his breath starts to even out. “Whatever you need, baby, okay? As long as you know that your parents will always love you unconditionally, and for so much more than magical hair.” He digs into a bag and pulls out scissors. “Are you sure?” He clarifies, and Even nods, rapidly.

It takes 23 minutes for Even to have a hairstyle that’s short and decent looking. His hair is no longer stunningly golden, now it’s a light brunette that has a little bit of blond in some lighting, a reminder of a dark time in his life. Even doesn’t mind that reminder, though, because it’ll only make him remember the story of how he met Isak, and how Isak became so pivotal and crucial in his life in a matter of days.

At the first sign of life in Corona, the first sounds of music and chatter, Isak and Even make their way to the castle, hand in hand, satchel dangling from Isak’s shoulders. After extensive explaining, Even is brought before the King and Queen, crown in hand and kidnapping story in his mind. There’s a lot of crying, and a lot of hugging, and Even’s never felt so complete in his life. He has a family, a real one, and they’re fucking royalty. He’s so lucky, so grateful for what he has, for what Isak helped him find.

Mother, later identified as being an elderly woman named Gothel, is found near the tower, a pile of ash tucked under black cloak. Even mourns her death despite every ounce of hatred for her that fills his bones, because that woman housed and fed him for years, and despite her malicious intentions, Even did love her once.

Isak’s family is brought to Corona, to live on palace grounds. His mother is given treatment, his sister is put in school, and they never go hungry or cold again. They’re never alone again.

Even is never alone again, either.

  
....

  
One year later, on Even’s 21st birthday, he and Isak sit on a canoe in the middle of the lake and let off floating lanterns. The lanterns go up by the hundred, off of ships and docks and rooftops and castle grounds, lighting up the sky, celebrating the prince’s return. Even wears his crown proudly, and Isak tells him multiple times how beautiful it looks in the light from the lanterns. How beautiful Even looks.

They lay together, on the bottom of the canoe, with Mikael perched on the end, watching the lanterns and squeaking happily. He's almost happier than Even to be away from Gothel. The two boys can barely fit all of their long, lanky limbs, so they have to cuddle. Neither of them mind, because it’s easier to share kisses this way, and to whisper their I love you’s in a way that no one else will hear, so quiet that it’s impossible for the words to ever carry over the water and reach shore. It’s the most private thing about Even’s life now, since he’s a royal and all.

“Do you remember last year, when Vilde braided my hair?” Even asks.

Isak nods, presses a kiss to the brunette locks. “You know… I’ve always had a thing for brunettes.”

Even rolls his eyes, flicks Isak’s chest. Isak laughs, and it carries so far, up to the moon with the floating lanterns. “Shut up, I’m trying to be serious,” he whines, and Isak apologizes, whispers for Even to _please go on_. That earns him another thump before Even finally continues. “Anyway. I asked you if you believed in soulmates, and you told me to ask you again sometime.”

“Mm, I remember.”

“Isak?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Even smiles to himself, draws small circles over where he can hear Isak’s heartbeat. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

Isak hums, and takes his sweet time to think. Even lets him, fills in the silence of the small canoe with kisses all over Isak’s chest and neck. “If you’d asked me that one year and four days ago, I would’ve said no. Absolutely not,” he says, and Even hums, asks if that answer is different now, one year and four days later. “Yeah, it is. You changed a lot of things about my life, Even. That’s why I’m in love with you. You’re more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.”

“That’s an Emily Bronte quote.”

Isak nods, “I know. But it’s the best way I know how to answer that question. I’m not very good with words, you know.”

“I know,” Even whispers. “But I only need to hear one word to answer the question. Do you believe in soulmates, Isak?”

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> feedback (i do read ALL comments and they make my day!!) and kudos is greatly appreciated xoxo


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